


heaven (with an angel to match)

by kauket_616



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2019, Alternate Universe - Horse Racing, Fluff and Angst, POV Andrew, POV Neil, andreil is Soft, self indulgent? maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 12:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18098888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kauket_616/pseuds/kauket_616
Summary: Neil stumbles into Fox Farms with his dying breaths. Little does he know that a certain angel won't just let that happen.





	heaven (with an angel to match)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fornavn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fornavn/gifts).



> This is my contribution to AFTG Reverse. I am so glad I was able to participate. Also, shoutout to the wonderful artist Fornavn (fornavn.tumblr.com) for their amazing art and prompt.

Neil Josten thought that there were worse places to die. Though he was never foolish enough to hold the belief that he’d have a choice in the matter. But here? _Here._ It felt like one big cosmic joke. Bleeding out from a laughable wound surrounded by the hay and wood and the familiar sounds of a full stable gracing his eardrums.

He’d have killed to be back in a stable, but dying in one would have to do. Besides, if his mother found out he was here, he was dead anyway. So yes, this was fine. More than fine as far as he was concerned.

He would have been content to drift off into nothing when he felt something soft and quivering against his cheek. His eyes opened and, a horse. Graceful and strong. He breathed in deep through his nose and fought not to make a sound. He was sure this was more than he deserved. Then footsteps, the crushing of hay.

A head of blonde and otherworldly, passive eyes. His last thought before abrupt, inevitable darkness was, _Oh, an angel._

* * *

Neil awoke and was instantly disappointed. Not disappointed that he was alive, of course. More so from the fact that his angel wasn't in the room. He wondered if he'd imagined it, hallucinated maybe. He doesn't know how much blood he's lost.

“Looking for someone,” a gentle voice asks from his peripheral and he tensed. His mother would have killed him dead for not being more aware of his surroundings. And for being so obvious.

“Where am I?” Neil croaked out, eyes tracking windows and a cracked door.

“Fox Farms. I'm Abby.” She rounded the bed. Her face was kind with little crinkles around her eyes in concern. Neil didn't buy it. Wouldn't. Couldn't. “You remember passing out in the stables…?”

He ignored the leading and simply nodded tight, once. His hand crept up his abdomen and he found stitches. They were good.

“You a doctor?”

“A vet. Close enough, right?”

His mouth twitched, but he fought the smile.

“You want to tell me what happened to you?” She inclined her head. “We could help. You seem like you're into something.”

“No.”

He needed to leave. He hadn’t seen Lola in a year or so, but the wound from Romero kept him from feeling comfortable. Lola would not take that well.

“Where’s your restroom?” he asked, keen and not ready to waste another minute.

“Down the hall. Just be careful, okay?”

He nodded absentmindedly and slipped out of bed, wincing only the slightest bit. He had stepped into the hallway and was wondering how far he could get with no shoes when he saw him. _Angel._

“What’s your name?” he blurted out. His heart ran rampant and panic bubbled in his chest. He shouldn’t have said anything. He shouldn’t be bringing any more attention to himself.

The angel raised a pale brow. “What’s yours?”  
He swallowed. “Neil.” He hadn’t meant to be honest. He also couldn’t bring himself to lie.

The angel eyed him as if sizing him up. “Andrew,” he finally answered. Then before he could fixate that he had the name of an angel in his pocket: “I’m going for a smoke.”

Andrew turned on his heel and headed out a door to the side. After a few moments of inner turmoil, Neil felt compelled to follow.

Andrew was settled against a post, cigarette already lit. “That wasn’t an invitation to follow.”

He moved to stand in front of him. “Felt like one.” It didn't and it did. He preferred to listen to what served him.

He let himself take in Andrew. He imagined once this conversation was over, they’d never meet again. Either because Neil would never be on this side of the world again or Lola would have succeeded in whatever sick plans of revenge she had and he’d be six feet under. If she was in a forgiving mood. Neil didn’t put much stock in that.

So he gazed at the man with the freckles across his hollowed cheeks and cigarette between pink lips; the man who he was certain was the only reason he was alive right this second. He would have been content if this was the last face he’d seen before he died. He was more grateful that he was given the chance to fully take him in. Even if it was only for a little while.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Neil could only imagine the expression on his face. He tipped his head down. “Thank you.”

Andrew jerked, some unnamed emotion flickering and then dying on his otherwise passive face. “What for?”

“I probably would have bled out if not for you.”

“I didn’t stitch you up.”

“No, but you found me.”

“Unfortunately.” He studied Neil with an even expression, flicking ash. “You beat whatever you’re running from?”

Neil flinched. “Who says I’m running?”

“You stab yourself, rabbit?”

“Maybe I was robbed.”

“Were you?” He asked, halfheartedly.

“No,” he replied, not taking the out. Neil wonders when he decided to be honest.

Andrew nodded as if he knew that already.

They were quiet with Andrew blowing smoke in his face ever so often. He breathed the smoke in deep and fought off memories he’d rather keep buried. He liked being in the now with an angel, however long it would last.

Andrew broke the silence with a peculiar statement.

“Abby makes good chili.”  
“Good for her?”

“You should try it,” was all he said before tossing the cigarette and heading back in the house.

  
Neil watched him go with a hollow feeling in his chest and a small pit of anxiety at the thought of never seeing him again. One bowl and then he’d be gone.

* * *

 

It was not just one bowl. One bowl turned into staying the night. One night turned into three and now it was two weeks later and he still hadn’t left. He was being stupid. Reckless. He might’ve killed Romero, but Lola was still out there. He should have been in the wind the second he could move his feet. Even so, there was too much keeping him here. Friends he somehow made. The horses. _Andrew._ None of these things should have mattered. If anything, they should have made him want to run even more. And they did. But God, did they also make him want to _stay_.

* * *

The next morning, Neil arrived in the kitchen, only to find everyone hovering around a card on the island. Neil approached and read over Seth’s shoulder. A RSVP card for Riko Moriyama and his plus one Jean Moreau. His appetite vanished only to be replaced with a vague sense of annoyance as he watched Kevin search for vodka.

“It’s 9 a.m.”

Kevin ignored him and took a swig from the found bottle.

“Who even invited him?” Seth spat, glancing at Renee almost in accusation. She only shook her head.

“We could ban him. I have an in with the police department.” Allison offered, wiggling her phone.

Aaron scoffed. “He could buy and sell that entire division.”

“I could seduce him,” Nicky joked with an aborted, nervous laugh. “I’m sure Erik wouldn’t mind.”  
“Stay away from him, Nicky,” Andrew warned, voice hard as steel. “I have this handled.”

“Poison. Have we all considered poison?” Dan queried.

“That's a bitch boy way out and frankly I think it’s perfect for him,” Seth chimed in.

They bickered and volleyballed ideas with increasing volume. Neil was glad he would not be in attendance. Riko Moriyama made Neil want to reach for his knives and he hadn't even met him yet.

Andrew killed that notion with a swiftness. He pulled Neil away from the noise with a steady pull on his shirt. Neil followed with so little resistance it was almost embarrassing. Neil’s mother was right. This was dangerous.

“Nicky and Allison will take you to get something to wear for the fundraiser.”

Neil made a face. “I don’t see why I have to go.”

Andrew’s stare was bland and his words were blunt. “Because I don’t trust you to be here when we come back.”

Neil wanted to tell him that there wasn’t much that could make him run at this point. Even Neil knew that you didn’t run away from heaven. At least, not until the devils and demons caught up to you and you had no choice but to tuck tail. Neil also knew all that would get him was a flick to the forehead for his troubles.

Instead, he just rolled his eyes and warned the angel, “I don’t wear ties.”

* * *

Meeting Riko Moriyama was a lesson in civility and self-restraint. Meeting Jean Moreau made him want to put his fist through a window in frustration.

Riko had this air around him that was almost too thick to breathe in. It was heavy with derision, pretentiousness, and a distinct lack of self. All of that could be ignored if not for the way he viewed people as possessions. It might not have needed to be said (which he did and often), but it was evident in the way he yanked Jean around and eyed Kevin like a poorly behaving mare.

Neil wanted to beat him with his own show cane.

Andrew stayed his hand with a look. Neil realized he’d been doing a poor job with concealing his first impression if his and Jean’s faces were anything to go by. Jean Moreau.

He'd seen the videos. Saw how good he was even as he was so obviously holding himself back. He wondered how they hadn't been caught yet. Neil figured it had something to do with his last name, which he didn't hesitate to drop every chance he got, like now.

“Moriyama & Co has been doing quite well this season. How’s...Fox Farms was it?”

Allison rolled her eyes. “You can't crash our event and then pretend to not know who we are. You can’t be pathetic and stupid.”

“I am merely here to take back what is mine,” he sneered. “Your presence is a disgusting side effect.”  
Seth tensed.

Neil rolled his eyes. “I feel like we shouldn’t have to explain to you that you can’t own people.”  
“I _made_ him, you nobody.”

“Ouch,” Neil monotoned. “Being called a nobody by someone I’ve literally never heard of sure does smart.”

This was a lie. Anyone in the racing or training community would have at least heard the name Moriyama. But Neil was a liar by survival. He figured one more lie wouldn’t hurt.

Kevin looked as if he was actively dying inside. Jean’s faced looked pinched. Neil wanted to tell him that Riko Moriyama was not worth a lifetime of wrinkles.

Andrew’s hand on his elbow is what stifled what would have come out of his mouth next.

“You will respect me or you will live to regret it. Choose.”

Andrew stepped forward, arms at his armbands. “You know better than to threaten my things, Riko. Do better.”  
Riko smiled a smile that had Neil wishing for the first time in a long time that he had a knife handy. “Careful, Kevin. He will not always be around.”

Riko left with Jean on his heels. Neil wished he didn’t. It settled in his stomach like a pit. He understood Kevin just a tiny bit more.

Andrew leaned down to speak in his ear. “You will do nothing. I will alert security and that will be the end of it.”

Neil shivered at the proximity. He didn’t move away. “For now.”

Andrew nodded. “For now.”

* * *

Bringing Neil here was a mistake. No, his first mistake was allowing Nicky to dress him. He looked entirely too sinful for a fundraising event. He didn’t believe in regret; there was a first for everything.

The only upside to this dreaded event was seeing Neil wholly unaffected by the likes of Riko. He knew it was a lie that he didn’t know the Moriyama name. Even a runaway like him would know that. Maybe not to the extent of which their power ranged. Or how cruel they could be. He imagined tonight would give him an idea.

Neil and his smart mouth would be the death of him. He doesn’t know when he decided to take him on. He didn’t even offer him a deal. He just remembered ice blue eyes looking at him like he could hold up the world. What an idiot. He’d just have to stick close to make sure he stayed out of trouble.

Maybe that was why he didn't notice Seth skulking about. He'd always told Wymack he was a liability. But the old man and his bleeding heart wouldn't listen.

It was like this: Riko knew Seth was their weakest link. He approached him with one of the few things he couldn't say no to in exchange for information on a one Neil Josten. Andrew was not particularly worried. Andrew was the only one with any real information. Still, the fact that there was someone in the household willing to sell out Neil did not sit well with him. If he were more honest with himself, he could say it pissed him off.

It all came to a head when Seth came to breakfast high as a kite. Andrew can only assume he did so because he thought he could pass himself off as sober. His tolerance was off and Wymack was able to recognize it not ten minutes in. He was ruthless in his takedown and demanded to know where he got the drugs from. And did Gordon sing.

Everyone looked to be outraged on Neil’s behalf. When Andrew took a look at him, he just looked resigned. As if his fate was sealed and he never actually stood a chance. His fist clenched. He wanted to reintroduce Seth to what was lying underneath his armbands. Remind him of what happened to people who messed with what was his.

But, oh. He’d yet to lay claim to the smart-mouthed redhead. Guess he’d have to fix that. And soon.

* * *

“He’s not one of us. I don’t see why we should have to protect him,” Seth argued.

“You should not need incentive not to sell out a human being for drugs,” Andrew shot down steel in his tone.

“Fuck you, Minyard.”

He’s not one of us. _He’s not one of us._ Neil’s stomach dropped, realizing how stupid he was being. Breaking his mother’s promises trying to fool himself into thinking he belonged anywhere. Guilt and grief tore at his insides. This wasn’t him. He knew it when hazel eyes met his and his insides liquified. This was too much good for a person like him.

Seth was right. He wasn’t one of them. Prime time that he remembered that. Because hellhounds were on his trail and he wouldn’t lead them to heaven’s doorstep.

* * *

Neil would think with all the practice that he had his slipping away into the night should have been flawless. Though, Andrew did have a way of disrupting Neil’s best-laid plans. He couldn’t say that he minded, even if it made the process that much more difficult.

Andrew did not look pleased. “Once a runaway, always a runaway."

“Andrew.” Neil’s heart stopped then hastened at an alarming rate. He tried his best to ignore it.

“Nothing to say for yourself, rabbit?”

“You shouldn’t be so surprised.”

Andrew’s cigarette waved his laden hand in the direction of his face, smoke wafting around. “This is my surprised face.”

They were both silent, waiting for the other to make the first move. Neil found himself settled in his presence. He could feel his mother’s phantom fists on his back. He clenched his jaw and hefted the duffel bag higher on his shoulder.

“Not even a goodbye, no note? Boyd won’t know what to do with himself. And Nicky?” Andrew sucked his teeth.

“How’d you even know?”

“You are not as subtle as you think.” At Neil’s eyebrow lift, he continued. “This morning. Breakfast. You should not let Seth of all people get to you.”

“Being an asshole doesn’t negate what he said. I don’t belong here.” He shook his head. “It was stupid of me to stay for so long.”

“It’s been two weeks.”

“Too long.”

“You are a walking sob story, Josten,” Andrew said, flicking the cigarette at his feet. Wymack was going to kill him if he saw it. The fact that he knew that was a problem in itself.

“You don’t normally beat around the bush. So spit it out.”

Andrew gazed at him and Neil felt entirely too seen. It unnerved him like nothing else but he liked it. He didn’t want to go, to leave this. But he had to. Lola didn’t care about casualties.

“What will it take to make you stay?”

He shook his head. “You’ll all be in danger.”

“Let me rephrase: Who else are you running from?”

“Why do you care?”

“Do not mistake this as me caring. Kevin needs an anchor or else we all get caught up in the storm with him.”

“And what? I’m the anchor?” Neil laughed without mirth. The idea that he could hold someone down was insane, almost poetic. He couldn’t even hold himself down. He’s lived in four continents and countless cities, more were sure to come.

“So it seems.” Andrew seemed convinced, indicated only by his willingness to repeat himself

“Who are you running from?” He repeated, voice stern. Neil felt compelled to speak truths. As he often did to the man that saved his life.  
“A woman,” he started, unable to speak her name just yet. “She’s good with knives. Sadistic.”

Andrew just nodded. “Any connections?”  
Neil shuddered, shaking his head. “Not anymore.”

Neil told a tale that was true of a life from being born to Nathan Wesninski and running from Nathan Wesninski. From running with his mother and burying her. Of running alone and ridding himself of those that meant him harm through any means necessary.

“Give your back to me, Neil,” he said as easy as breathing.

“Why?” he wondered. “Why would you even want it?”

“What’s one more junkie to the collection?”

He eyed Andrew in the moonlight, looking more like an angel than he did that fateful night. The smoke of his second cigarette doing little to soften the sharp edges. Hazel seeming to glow and pick up every minuscule movement that he made. Could he have this?

“I have a condition?”

Andrew hummed, waiting.

“Transparency. They have a right to know.”

“No.” Neil’s lips were already moving. Andrew spoke over him. “You saw what happened this morning. I will not allow a repeat.”

His voice was soft when he said, “I don’t want to lie to them.”

He was tired of lying. He was tired of being anyone but himself, whoever that was. Even so, Andrew was unwavering.

“I cannot keep you safe if one of them runs their mouths. I will not risk it.”

Then: “I also have a condition. You will be honest with me at all time. Lying serves no purpose.”

A pit of dread formed in his stomach. He nodded anyway. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

And that was it. Neil felt as if it should have been monumental. A feeling or sign to justify breaking his promises to Mary. There was nothing. Just him, Andrew, the night and the telltale sounds of the stable. Then Andrew tugged him by his hoodie, maneuvered him until they were both settled on the porch, and handed him a cigarette. Suddenly, it seemed like more than enough.

* * *

The next morning, he asked Andrew if he could see him ride. Neil wasn’t in true riding form yet. That didn’t mean he couldn’t watch.

“You sure you don’t mind?”  
Andrew eyed him. “Do what you want.”

Neil swallowed and hoped he wasn’t being obvious. Andrew’s face told him he was failing. At what, he wondered. He wasn’t even sure himself. He just knew that seeing Andrew ride made him feel things. Things his mother had convinced him would get him killed.

She wasn’t here now, though. It was just him and Andrew on the ranch. Andrew looking the way he looked, doing the things he did, riding the way only he could. Face determined if nothing else. Neil thought if Andrew asked him to get up on the horse and run to a nameless place, it wouldn’t feel much like running. It wouldn’t even feel like escape. It’d feel like heaven _._

His palms itched, tingled. He wanted to reach out. He wasn't sure what for but the want was strong. Almost had his arm raising without his say so.

“Don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“It's just riding, Neil.”

Neil shook his head. “Somehow...somehow you make it better.”

Andrew licked his lips, hands clenching. “You shouldn’t say such things.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”  
Neil couldn’t help it, he snorted. “That reason enough?”

His voice dropped. “Should be.”  
Neil swallowed. It was, but it wasn’t. “I can’t.”  
Andrew eyed him a second longer then took off, leaving Neil in the dust. He tried not to take it too literally.

* * *

Another week passed. When Kevin heard that he used to be a rider, it was all either boy could talk about. Kevin had had enough with Neil standing on the sidelines and demanded he saddled up today. He couldn’t say he minded. He missed it so much, even if it was steeped in painful memories and scars. He just hoped he hadn’t lost all of his skill. Andrew being there definitely helped.

“You can have Lottie. She’s difficult, but you should be able to handle her,” Kevin’s tone left little room for argument. If Neil was in the mood, he would have found room anyway.

Andrew scoffed. “She’s not difficult. She just doesn’t like you.”

Neil shook his head, already approaching her and mindful of her flight zones. “I remember you.” His voice was soft.

Andrew nodded. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

The night he crashed in the barns, bleeding and desperate. He had always assumed she was another one of Andrew’s. She seemed to remember him.

Lottie pricked her ears toward Neil. He held his hand a foot or so from her nose. He waited, patient. When she finally did lean forward and sniff, Neil smiled at the feeling of her exhales across his palm.

Making sure he was seen, he rubbed his hand across her shoulder and neck.

Andrew grunted in approval. “Good.”

Neil felt heat rushing to his cheeks. He pretended it was solely due to his excitement from riding again.

Kevin handled him a halter. “Time to see what you’re made of.”

Being back on a horse should not have felt this good. It shouldn’t have felt like coming home, a home of his own making. Leaps becoming bounds. Sun on his neck and focused on nothing but where he was going. Not his past, his family or Lola. Just him and his horse, Kevin, and the man who promised to keep him safe.

He did a slow jog by the man in question. “Race me?”

Andrew was impassive. “Shouldn’t you be trying to impress Kevin?”

“I don’t care about impressing Kevin.”  
“Maybe you should, runaway.”  
“Maybe I care about impressing you.”  
Andrew blinked. “You are not cute.”  
Neil cocked his head. “Wasn’t trying to be. Race me. Yes or no?”  
Andrew sighed as if put upon. “Fine. To the tree.”

He eyed the tree in the distance. He knew he didn’t stand much chance of winning. He didn’t know much about Lottie except that she hated Kevin. Still, he wouldn’t pass up spending time with an angel.

“To the tree,” he said with a smirk. “Don’t get lost.”

And then they were off.

Neil ignored Kevin’s outraged yells as they sped off. Andrew’s horse was fast. it was clear he knew her and the land well. Where Neil stumbled, Andrew leaped and kept onward. Suffice to say, the race was over before it began.

“You’re good,” was the extent of Andrew’s praise. Neil still soaked it up for all it was worth.

“I’m rusty.”

“Obviously. When was the last time you were on a horse?”

“God, it’s been years.” Neil swallowed, tilting his head back. “I missed it.”

“I’m surprised a junkie like you lasted so long.”

“Being on the run doesn’t really give you a lot of options.”

Andrew considered him. “No. I imagine not.”

He started on the way back with a slow trot. Neil followed. “Why did you stop?”

Neil’s voice was dry. “A knife to the gut.”

His jaw clenched. “I will kill them if they come near you again.”

“Already dead.”  
“Good.” Andrew rephrased his question. “What made you stop, rabbit?”  
Divine intervention. _An angel,_ he wanted to say. He doubted that would go down well. Instead, he gave him another truth.

“I was tired.” Of running. Of looking over his shoulder. Of stitching himself back together, adding one more scar to the collection. “What I was doing clearly wasn’t working. And you seem like you keep your word.”

“Rest, Neil.” He said it as if it was easy. He wondered if it could be.

“Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

 _Yet._ “In advance, then.”

Andrew blinked. “88%”

He took off, leaving Neil confused. Even so, he smiled as he caught up to him at the stables.

Kevin looked to be practicing jumps when they made it back.

Andrew dismounted his horse. “I’m tired. Let Kevin boss you around for a couple of hours, junkie.”

Kevin approached upon hearing his name. “I saw you. You can do much better. Let’s start with your riding position.”

Andrew saluted him before leaving. He knew he should be listening to what Kevin was saying but all he could think about was hazel eyes and kept promises.

* * *

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. Chores were done and practice was done for the day. Everyone was training for an upcoming race, including Neil at Kevin's insistence. Neil was reading a book Andrew recommended when slowly but surely the rest of the Foxes sans Andrew drifted in, settling in some spot in the den. His chest felt warm at the companionship. The day descended and along with it any semblance of civility. He wasn’t sure where it wrong. He thinks maybe it begins with Seth. He is trash talking Riko as he is prone to do when Neil’s mouth and curiosity got the best of him. He asked Kevin why he worked with Riko for so long.

“I wanted to win. He was the best.” He said that as if it was reason enough. It wasn’t.

“But at what cost? Ever thought to ask that?”

“I didn’t know,” he snapped. “And when I did, I got out as soon as my contract expired. Jean still has a few more months.”

“People should know what he’s like.”

Kevin shook his head. “I can’t.”  
He blinked, once, twice. “Why’s that?”

“He broke my wrist.”

Neil waited for the rest. For Kevin to say something that justified his extreme displays of cowardice.

“And?”

The room flinched as a whole.

“And what? He broke my wrist and threatened to do more if I told anyone about how he trains.”

Neil thought about holding his tongue and then decided, _Fuck it._ “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Kevin’s hackles rose, visibly tensing.

“So fuck the horses and everyone else involved as long as Kevin Day is alright?

_“What did you want me to do?”_

“To not be a selfish coward. To give a fuck about anyone or anything else, _for once.”_

“Like you would have done differently. You love racing just as much as I do.”

Neil shook his head. “Not that much.”

Kevin looked at him like he was a stranger. Like he was disgusted he was even entertaining this conversation. Neil knew the feeling.

“You haven’t been through what I’ve been through.”

“I guarantee I’ve been through worse.”

Neil knew that wasn’t fair. That pain and trauma wasn’t a competition to be measured on a scale with one poor sap being declared the winner. But, _fuck._

“Neil.”

Neil’s frame strung tight. He didn’t hear Andrew come in. His fingers twitched in agitation, wanting to reach for something that wasn’t there.

Andrew was probably annoyed. Some runaway mouthing off to his charge. To one of the few he gave enough of a shit about to protect. Andrew would tell him it wasn’t like that. That he cared about nothing and no one. Neil knew better.

He forced himself to relax, hopefully giving off an image of maybe not calm, but at least collected. He’s certain he’s failing.

“Just a disagreement. It’s fine.”

Kevin scoffed.

Neil hitched his mouth. “Gonna head out.” He avoided Andrew's eyes, met Matt's eyes and jerked his head in some approximation of a goodbye.

Andrew's eyes on his back felt like coals.

* * *

Andrew found him later on the back porch. He thinks this is the part where Andrew tells him that he changed his mind. That he did not sign up for protecting someone with a smart mouth and a bad attitude. That he’s more trouble than he’s worth. He ignores the way his breath seems to get stuck in his lungs at the thought.

“You should stop running away,” Andrew drawled.

“Confrontations never ended well for me.” A fact.

“Tell that to that smart mouth of yours.”

“Sometimes it’s worth it.”

He blew out smoke. “So there’s a method to the madness.”

Neil didn't respond.

“Wasn’t worth it this morning?”

Neil shook his head. “I know when I’m beat.”

“Not everything is a competition.”

“Okay.”

“Stop being difficult.”

“I’m having a hard time understanding why you care. I didn’t think this deal extended to my fragile fucking feelings.”

Andrew rushed him until he was flat against the wall. “You are being a brat. Why? Jealous?” He leaned forward until they were a breath away. “Don’t like sharing?”

Neil swallowed, unnerved yet pleased by the proximity. He liked having Andrew this close. He didn’t want to say something to mess it up. “Maybe.”

“Green is not a pretty color on you. Fix it.” He moved to step away. Neil gripped his shirt to stop him without even thinking. Andrew’s eyes widened just the slightest. “What?”

“Do you,” Neil tugged his lip between his teeth. “Like Kevin more than me?”

He jerked. “I do not like Kevin at all.”

Neil lifted his chin. “You’ve known him longer.”

“Unfortunately.”  
“Drew,” Neil’s voice took on a slight whining quality.

“He doesn’t call me Drew,” he pointed out, lip twitching.

“Say what you mean. I don’t--know how to do this.”  
“Yes or no?”  
“Yes.”

When Andrew’s lips touch his, he can’t help but let out a little hum. He does not know what he was expecting when he said yes. He is glad it is this.

Andrew’s lips are soft and plush, sliding against Neil’s in a way that sends his whole body shaking. He does not want it to end. It does.

“I don’t do that with Kevin either” is his breathless reply against Neil’s lips.

“Again,” is all he can think to respond. Blessedly, Andrew listens.

He listens and then he leads. He kissed Neil, trailing his hands down his arms and circling his wrists. He pins them above his head and says, “Keep them here for me.”

Flushed, Neil nods. He would be good for Andrew. When convinced, he kissed him again. Neil gasped as Andrew licked and nipped into his mouth. One hand was firm in its exploration of Neil’s torso and he arched into the touch, feeling warm all over.

It was too much and not enough. He tucked his head in Andrew’s neck and prayed for small mercies.

* * *

“Neil.”

He shook his head, burying it further into Andrew’s neck. Andrew fought not to shiver.

“You’re embarrassed.” Andrew paused, wondering if this was his business. Neil was caged in his arms with kiss stung lips, courtesy of himself. Andrew decided he would make it his business. “Why?”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Neil said against his skin.

“I want to talk about this.”

“You don’t want anything.”

Andrew’s grip on Neil tightened, pointedly. Neil pulled back to face Andrew with a sigh.

“You don’t play fair.”

Andrew scoffed. “Like you do, junkie.”

Neil settled in Andrew’s grip, absent-minded smile on his face as his gaze grew distant. He was clearly deciding on what truths he wanted to share. Of course, Andrew had to be falling for a habitual liar. Though when now clear, ice blue eyes settled back onto his, he couldn’t find fault in the runaway.

Neil’s voice was careful when he said, “I’m not used to liking it. I’m not used to being allowed to like it.”

Andrew’s jaw set like stone. This was sounding all too familiar and it made his bones ache. “What do you mean?” He gritted out, not wanting to think the worst.

“Before...before my mom--well, _before_ . Whenever I kissed someone or someone kissed me it was just curiosity really. To see if I’d like it. If I would _ever_ like it. And whenever my mom found out she’d get mad.”

Andrew would kill Mary himself if she were not ash and bones already.

“I never did. It was fine, I guess. But with you it’s good. Too good.”

Andrew somehow grew tenser. “Too good?”  
“Definitely not bad.” Neil’s mouth hitched. “Was just a little overwhelmed.”

Andrew nodded. “We will go slow.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

It was the night before the race. He was in Andrew’s room for the second time ever and he couldn’t help but feel privileged. The night was going as they often did, exchanging truths and kisses. Tonight was for heavier truths.

Andrew had felt the scars on his torso, but he’d never seen him. He asked to see them and Neil couldn’t bring himself to say no. If he was ever going to trust anyone with this, it would be Andrew. He wondered how it happened so fast. He decided he didn’t care.

Andrew took in the sight of his marred torso like he did most things about Neil. He did not flinch; he did not offer pity.

His face was fixed, but his words betrayed the slightest hint of emotion. “You were whipped.”

Neil swallowed. “My father. Said I embarrassed him in front of company. Never fell off again."

“Where was your mother?”

“Licking her own wounds, probably.”

“Probably.”

Neil had told Andrew many stories of the Wesninski household. Some he remembered and some his mother told him. “Like I said, familiar.”

“If they were not already dead, I would kill them all.”

“Cute.”

“Is it? I’ve killed before.” His stare was almost challenging as if Neil could judge.

A cocked head. “Who?”

“Aaron’s mother.” Not his, Aaron’s.

Truth for truth. “Okay.”

Andrew’s hand skimmed feather soft across his torso. “Okay.” An affirmation.

* * *

Neil woke up with cold metal pressed against his face. He opened his eyes to hazel boring down at him.

“Good morning to you, too.”

The metal was pressed further into his face. “Here.”

Neil grappled blindly, smile dying on his face when he felt what fell into his hands.

“I don’t--?”

Andrew huffed. “They’re keys, junkie. To the house, the barns, and my car.”

“ _Drew.”_ He couldn’t think of much else to say. He didn’t feel deserving.

“Stop it. They’re just keys.”

“You know they’re not.”

“Wymack got them made.”  
“Thank you.”  
“I just told you--.”  
“I said what I said,” Neil interrupted, grinning.

Andrew stared at him before he blurted “94%.”

He laughed. “Yes or no?”

“Your breath stinks.” Then: “Yes.”

* * *

Neil was beyond pumped to see Andrew race. He was glad his own race was over. He and Lottie came in third in their jump racing event. He cared little that he didn't win. There was a strange mix of reverie and determination as he raced. He would never tell Kevin this but he was content to just be allowed, let alone encouraged, to race again.

Andrew, though. He felt oddly proud even though he had nothing to do with his skill. It should not have come to him as a surprise that Lola managed to ruin it all.

She appeared and Neil felt his whole world crumble. He didn’t want her near the Foxes. He didn’t want her near Andrew. He might have promised to give him his back but he never promised to risk his life. And if Lola was here, then that meant it was the end of the line. No more late nights in the stables or game nights in the den. No more Kevin whinging in his ear about his posture or Abby’s chili that could always use just a pinch more salt. He would miss Andrew’s lips on his and the sound he made when he ran the edge of his teeth across his pulse point. He’d missed his touch and his voice. He’d just fucking miss him.

Lola cared little for that as she led him to the car with a knife digging into his back.

“You should really thank your good friend Riko for us reuniting. He sounded so concerned on the phone.” Lola cackled. “Said he was worried about a loose mare without its handler. Why couldn’t you have been funny? I feel like I would have hated the sight of you less.”

“You talk too much.”

A flash of white as she grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t have to talk much about for what I’m going to do next. You just sit there and look pretty, Junior.”

* * *

It would turn out that the phone Andrew demanded he keep on him at all times would be his saving grace. Later, Andrew would tell him that there was nothing worse than listening to him scream in agony. That he’d do anything to prevent it from happening again. That seeing him burned, cut, and covered in blood was something he’d fight to never see again, even if a great deal of the blood wasn’t his own.

That was then, but this was now. Now was Neil in Andrew’s bed as close together as Neil’s wounds would allow.

“You are a pipe dream.” Neil did not mention the way Andrew’s voice wavered.

“I’m right here, Drew.”

“I promised to protect you.”

“And you kept your promise, you did.”

“I didn’t. She got you. While I was in a _race._ ” He said the word like it was dirty. As if his participation in the one thing that didn’t completely bore him was worthy of scorn. Neil didn’t want that. Didn’t want Lola to have any more sway on anyone’s life.

“You saved me,” He fisted his shirt. “You were everything I thought you’d be.”

“Shut up.”

“I thought you were an angel,” Neil shifted his face to hide it in the crook of Andrew’s neck. “That night in the barn. I thought I was dying and you were going to make it better.”  
“Neil.”  
“And you did. You made it better every day. With the keys and the kisses.”  
“They were just keys.” He doesn’t say they were just kisses.

He shakes his head, eyes closed. “You know they weren’t.”

Andrew is quiet, processing. Neil doesn’t mind. He was content to just feel the rise and fall of Andrew’s chest and the warmth against his side.

Then: “Come here.”

Neil pulled back so that brown met blue.

His voice was rough when he said, “You made it better for me, too.”

Fuck, did that hit him. He was always someone’s problem. Someone’s burden. Setting off his father. Slowing down his mother. And yet, now here he was with someone telling him he was the exact opposite.

He let out a small sound in disbelief. Andrew’s eyes sparked. “I do not lie. Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

This kiss was unlike their others. It was not meant to spark passion; it was there all the same. It was a means of persuasion. It was not gentle and it was not kind. It said _believe me._ It said _stay_ and _you are never too much._

He said, _“You are everything”_


End file.
